


black out

by space_goose



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Ableist Language, Asphyxiation, Blood, Child Abuse, Darkfic, Flogging, Gore, Hanging, Non-con incest, Pedophilia, Strangulation, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Whipping, if you think morty would like this you need help :/, please i beg you dont think this is rickmorty, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_goose/pseuds/space_goose
Summary: Rick gets black out drunk and barges into Morty's room. Rick doesn't have the intent to kill, but he definitely has the intent to harm his grandson mentally and physically.





	black out

**Author's Note:**

> i was watching "i spit on your grave" on youtube and the guy getting strangled by a rope made me feel like writing this?? also i remembered that video i saw on Liveleak of some psycho mother hanging her son in front of a camera with a goddamn fucking belt, so,.... yeah? sorry in advance for this. also i have no idea how to write strangulation or flogging so it's really more of a practice.

Morty was just on the brink of sleep before his bedroom door slammed open with a loud burp following after. The burp was different, Morty knew it. He studied the burps since some meant Morty was in for a hell of a time or that Rick was just slightly drunk.

This burp was long, loud and disgusting. That only meant one thing.

"Mmmmmorty!" The slurred name left Rick's mouth and hit Morty like it was some sort of insult.

Rick was black out drunk.

Morty kept quiet, throwing the blankets over his head and hoping that his drunk grandfather would go away. He curled up and waited, but Rick never left. His stumbling footsteps made the boy's heart ache with fear, and the closer his deep, ragged breaths got, the more anxious Morty got.

He felt the sheets being pulled back and he tried reaching for them, but Rick just slapped his hand away, earning a yelp from the boy. "Go away, Rick! I'm trying to sleep. I have school..."

The old man just growled, mocking Morty's voice. "I have school..." he laughed at his own impression of Morty, which was way too high-pitched. "Whatever, moron. Get the fuck up--" he grabbed Morty's wrist before the boy could protest, and pulled him out of bed. He did it quite violently, as he let go of the boy's wrist and let him fall to the floor with a loud thud and pained groan.

Rick towered above him, looking down at the boy with a sick grin plastered across his face. He pulled a thick string from behind his back, holding it in his hands as if it was a whip. Actually, it was definitely a whip.

'Oh, shit!', was the only thing going through Morty's mind, as well as many different profanities.

Rick reached down and grabbed Morty's hair, bawling his fist in a fistful of the boy's brunette hair, his nails scratching across his scalp. He pulled him up aggressively, slapping him across the face when Morty tried to fight back with kicks.

"Fuck!" He screamed as the slender hand made impact with his cheek, making it pulse with a burning sensation. A bright, red hand mark was left on his cheek.

"Shut up, Morty, or I'll do something worse you little twat."

Morty didn't stop. He was scared and panicked, adrenaline pumping through his veins like drugs. "LET ME GO!"

Rick growled ferociously, before pushing the boy forcefully onto the floor. He walked over to the door and locked it, making sure anyone trying to get in would have to go through some trouble first. As he made his way back to Morty, he turned the boy onto his back and straddled his hips, holding his hands above his head.

"Morty, I will rape you so hard that you won't be able to walk properly for a whole week if you don't stop. So shut your whining and stop fucking moving."

The boy settled down slightly. Just the thought of being raped by Rick didn't sound so nice, and the kid knew that he was drunk enough to actually do it without hesitation. His breathing remained fast and deep. He was terrified. His entire body was shaking and trembling; he felt so vulnerable.

"Good boy..." the man cooed, holding Morty's chin in his hands. He flung away his face with an angry spat and gripped the hem of Morty's shirt. He worked up his shirt, pulling it up over his head and throwing it to the floor next to them.

Morty cringed until he felt sick when he felt his grandfather's old hand on his chest, each slender finger swirling around the skin and rubbing. The boy bit his lip, tears starting to form in his eyes as he wished he was dead.

Rick stood up and turned Morty onto his back with the heel of his shoe. Morty had no idea what was going to happen, all he could see was the floor. Darkness.

Then it happened. A sharp, sting erupted from his back, and his entire back felt raw with agonising pain. The whip had cut through the skin the second it met with it, cutting through it like a knife through butter. Slicks of blood dribbled down his back and he gasped out a loud cry of pain and his legs curled at the pain.

Another blow, more pain, more blood. His back was aching with a stinging sensation. Another blow sent his whole body into a millisecond shock. The pain was feeding into his limbs now. Blood was warm on his back, pooling at the wound sites and dripping down his sides. The floor was starting to become crimson red, ripples going through them as Morty's body shook uncontrollably.

"You pussy fuck. Grow a pair and man up."

Then came the barrage. He kept whipping and flogging until it hit a nerve, and Morty's whole body flung forward. He writhed and arched his back as his feet scratched across the floor. He screamed like a banshee as his head ached and his vision went black and dizzy. The bloody gaping wounds on his back were starting to crust over, but they were still raw with pain. He moaned in agony, letting the loud wail slip pass his lips in a cry for help. _Someone, anyone, help me!_

Through the ringing in his ears, he couldn't hear the banging and screaming from the other side of the door.

The pain didn't subdue, it remained there, burning and excruciating, but the whipping had stopped. Crimson beads bled from the gashes all over his back. His arms and legs felt numb, even though they had not even been hit. His entire body, in fact, felt numb or like it had bugs under it; trying to eat their way out, but he honestly felt like crawling into a ball and bleeding out to death, anything to stop the pain.

"Get the fuck up!" A foot connected with the side of his head, bringing the boy to his senses. "GET UP!"

With a cry of pain, Morty tried to move his legs but failed. Rick realised and sighed angrily, heaving the boy up by his hair again. He brought the boy to his face, eyes at level and lips only centimetres apart. Morty could smell the alcohol poisoning in Rick's breath and he made him sick. Being anywhere this close to his grandpa made him feel sick in general.

"You're a sweet kid, you know that? Your grandpa Rick loves you. Don't worry. This is all for a little bit of fun on my part. I don't give a shit if you like it or not. Put up with it, retard." With his hand still in Morty's hair, he wrapped the whip around his neck until it was tight and secured around it, and he dropped the kid midair.

The drop almost completely dislodged his neck.

"ACKKK!" The suppressed sound tore through his throat, but the whip remained tight. It suffocated him, constricting his airway closed and painfully so. He sputtered for air, coughing and gagging. As Rick held him midair, the tips of his toes only sometimes touching the floor, he yanked at the whip, letting the rope dig and cut at his throat. Tears started to rain from his eyes like a heavy cloud, but he couldn't even get out a full sob with his throat squeezed so tightly. His toes wiggled as he tried to reach the ground, but Rick just held him up higher, letting him dangle while he slowly suffocated.

Morty writhed and struggled, kicking at the air and trying to rip the rope from his throat, but his fingers couldn't wrap around the thin rope. He was starting to wish he wasn't actually getting air into his lungs. God, he wanted to fucking die. It was too painful.

His face started to go red and purple, losing oxygen fast. His red, puffy eyes almost went back into his skull, but soon were hidden behind eyelids. He felt his head aching and his breathing starting to subdue. He felt light-headed and sick, and even his struggling started to stop. Before he knew it, his body had completely stopped on him and he passed out, falling slick in the arms of the rope.

Rick dropped him, unwrapping the whip from around his neck. Blood seeped from the light cuts and his neck throbbed as his body desperately tried to pump air into his lungs. His chest rose and fell at insane speeds, but his face remained red but lost some of the purple hue. But he was out, definitely out. His back was still red but the blood had crusted and the wounds were starting to go white.

The old man didn't even register that the boy had passed out. He soon passed out too, after shitting himself and vomiting up yellow, chunky sludge all over his unconscious and beaten grandson. Luckily the shit stayed in his pants.

He fell to the ground, snores already wracking his body as he went into dreamland.

The heavy banging on Morty's door continued. The screams were louder. Sirens were ringing.

But there was no Rick to help them.


End file.
